


Fine Line

by Wyndewalker



Series: Fine Line [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyndewalker/pseuds/Wyndewalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a fine line between love and hate. When Nathan blurs that boundary will Ezra pay the ultimate price or will love conquer all between them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published in My Seducer zine

"God dammit, Ezra! Are you trying to undo all the work I put into getting you healed up right?" Nathan shouted, grabbing the silver flask from the mildly inebriated Southerner. Ezra had a stronger grip on it than expected and half the whiskey ended up on the floor. Hands on his hips, Nathan glared down at the man who still occupied the bed in his clinic two weeks after taking three bullets in the leg and developing a fever. Before Ezra even had a chance to think of an answer, Nathan was yelling again, "Who gave you the whiskey? Was it Vin? Or maybe JD? You always could con either of them into doing anything."

"I did not con anyone into doing anything," Ezra declared heatedly, the whiskey and anger thickening his accent and loosening his tongue a bit more than he'd like. "And it was Buck who gave me the whiskey. Figured I'd need it to deal with your incessant harping."

"Incessant harping? Trying to keep you from going and getting another infection or getting shot again before you have a chance to heal up proper is harping? Well that's gratitude for you. Don't know why I expected anything different from you. God Almighty, I don't even know why I bother stitchin' you up sometimes!"

"Neither do I!" Ezra shouted back, struggling to get his feet to the floor so he could stand up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you damn fool? You're going to rip your stitches."

"It is time I emancipated myself from this prison, stitches be damned!"

"Ezra, get back in bed," Nathan grabbed the Southerner as he made it to his feet, trying to force him back down.

"Unhand me, Mr. Jackson!"

"I said, get back in bed!"

"And I said unhand me!"

Ezra's foot caught in the bedding, tripping him. Nathan saw he was about to fall, but forgot about the spilled whiskey on the floor. His own feet shot out from underneath him as he grabbed at the Southerner. They both went down in a tangle of limbs with a resounding crash, having taken the bedside table and water pitcher with them to the floor.

Nathan landed with a grunt, surprised when Ezra didn't utter a sound. He quickly rolled the gambler onto his back thinking he'd hit his head. Ezra moved back onto his side, curling himself into a fetal position as much as his leg would allow and shaking his head. The healer could see his lips moving but couldn't hear what he was saying.

"Ezra? Are you all right, Ezra? Come on, talk to me."

"I can't do this anymore," he whimpered. "I can't. I can't do it anymore."

"Can't do what, Ezra?" he asked pulling the smaller man into his arms, trying to determine if he'd injured himself. He was surprised at the tears on the Southerner's face. It always seemed like Ezra could be in enough pain to make even Chris sob, and yet he'd lay there and take it silently, only the tightening of his jaw or fist to let you know he hurt. He only ever started complaining about anything once he was on the road to recovery.

The door crashed open with a bang making both men jump. Nathan looked up to see Josiah and JD standing in the doorway concerned expressions on their faces. Nathan waved them off. "It's all right, guys. Give us a minute alone."

Josiah nodded and backed out of the room, grabbing JD's collar when he didn't follow. Once the door was closed behind them, Nathan turned back to the trembling man burrowed against his chest. "What's wrong, Ezra? What can't you do anymore?"

A shake of the head was all the answer he got. "I'm not going anywhere till you tell me what's wrong."

"You don't want to know."

"Of course I want to know. Talk to me, Ezra."

Ezra shook his head again. "You don't want to know, Nathan. You don't want to know that I'm in love with you. You don't want to know how much it hurts every time you criticize me. How every comment, every look is like a knife twisting in my heart. I'm trying to change, Nathan. I'm trying to become the sort of man you'd at least be proud to call friend. It's hard. It's so hard to forget everything I've been taught since birth, to forget every hard lesson life has taught me. But I've tried." He tried to pull away from the dark healer, but Nathan refused to let go of him. He gave up, sagging against the strong body beneath him. Nathan could hear the defeat in the Southerner's emotion roughened voice when he spoke again. "I can't do it anymore, Nathan. It's just too hard to keep trying when I know you're waiting to criticize me the moment I don't live up to your standards. I just can't."

"Oh God, Ezra," Nathan moaned, clutching the Southerner tighter as his body went limp, that honeyed voice drifting into silence. All this time he'd never realized what he was doing to him, to the man he'd found himself so undeniably attracted to. When he'd first seen the gambler in the saloon there had been a spark of attraction. Nathan had just chalked it up to nearly being hung. He'd seen it often enough during the war. After a brush with death, a man still has the adrenaline pumping through his body and a need to connect with another life. He'd understood when he'd seen men disappearing together into the underbrush together after a battle. It was a fact of life.

Then he'd seen the Southerner with the children in the Seminole village, and he'd seen there was a good man lurking beneath that self-serving, indifferent facade. It had knocked him for a loop, and he'd struggled to ignore the desire and want coursing through his body. As time went by he saw the changes in the Southerner, saw him trying to do right. He constantly criticized the man to hide his attraction, afraid that if he let himself admit the Southerner was changing he'd have to admit he might be in love with him. He'd never suspected that Ezra might love him in return.

Nathan realized suddenly that he was still sitting on the floor with the Southerner cradled in his lap. He shifted the man in his arms to check his leg, grimacing when he saw that two of the wounds were bleeding again. Knowing that Josiah and JD would still be waiting outside, he called quietly for them to come in. The door opened immediately and was filled by the large bulk of the ex-preacher.

"Everything all right, Brother?"

Nathan shook his head. "Help me get him back into bed, Josiah. I think he ripped his stitches."

"What happened?" JD asked, picking up the water pitcher and moving the broken table out of the way so they could get to the bed unhindered.

"It's a long story, JD," Nathan said, peeling the bandage back from Ezra's thigh. He sighed in relief. The stitches had pulled a little and the healing skin at one side of the wound had torn, but not enough to require more stitches or that he redo the ones already there. Nathan quickly set about cleaning, poulticing and re-bandaging the wound, then moved to the next. This one had ripped a stitch. Nathan quickly set about fixing it before Ezra came to again. Finally satisfied with his doctoring, he sat back and faced the other two men. "The short of it is we had a fight. Ezra decided he'd had enough and tried to leave. Only he got tangled in the sheets and I slipped on the damned whiskey on the floor. That's how we fell."

"Whiskey?" Josiah raised an eyebrow in question.

"That's what started the whole thing and now that I've finished re-bandaging him...Josiah, would you stay with him? If he wakes before I get back have him drink some of this tea and tell him our conversation isn't over yet."

"Of course, Nathan. Where are you going?"

"I need to have a little 'talk' with Buck. Where is he, JD?"

"He and Chris are over at the jail. Why do you need to talk to Buck?"

Nathan didn't answer as he stormed past the young man. At Josiah's nod, JD hurried after him, his mind quickly putting the pieces together. He caught up to the healer halfway across the street.

"You don't think Buck gave Ezra that whiskey, do you, Nathan? I mean, even I knew better than to give him any liquor when he asked." JD gulped. If anything, Nathan's expression got even darker than before. The younger man actually began to fear for his older "brother's" life; he'd never seen the black man so angry, not even when Ezra did something that really annoyed him.

The two men lounging in the jail’s office were on their feet the instant Nathan burst through the door. Before Buck could even think about needing to defend himself, the enraged healer slugged him in the jaw toppling him over backwards.

Nathan followed him to the ground, straddling the ladies' man's chest, using his knees to pin Buck's arms to the floor. Buck stopped struggling the instant he felt the cold steel of one of Nathan's knives pressed against his throat. He shivered at the rage he saw burning in those dark brown eyes.

"If you ever, and I mean ever, give one of my patients whiskey again while they're in my clinic, I swear I'll carve you into so many pieces, Buck, even Vin's Comanche friends'll be impressed. Understand?"

"What the hell is going on, Nathan?" Chris demanded. He kept his distance though, not knowing how to react to this side of the gentle healer they'd never seen before.

"Do you understand?" Nathan repeated when Buck didn't respond.

"Yeah! Yeah, I understand, Nate. I swear I won't do it again."

"Good." Nathan shoved him back against the floor before getting to his feet. The second he sheathed his knife Chris was next to him demanding answers.

"You better have a good explanation for that, Nathan."

"Buck gave Ezra whiskey," JD answered for him.

"You what?" Chris rounded on Buck, who'd just picked himself up off the floor. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't mean no harm, Chris. He was going stir-crazy in there and wanted a drink. So I gave him some whiskey."

"And damned near killed him," Nathan snarled. It was really sinking in how close Nathan had come to losing the Southerner before he'd had a chance to tell him how he felt. He wanted to punch Buck all over again.

"What?" the three men shouted in unison.

Staring at the open concern on their faces and the true regret on Buck's, Nathan felt the fight drain out of him leaving him tired and weary.

"I only took him off the laudanum three days ago. One of those bullets hit a major muscle. Every time he so much as twitches he's in pain. I kept him on it as long as I dared, risking the chance of addiction. If he was still on it, combined with the whiskey, he could have slipped into a comatose state and never woken up. I seen it happen during the war."

"God, Nathan, I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I'm so sorry," Buck whispered hoarsely. Without looking at the others, he hurried from the jail.

"Is he gonna be all right, Nathan?" Chris asked. He'd never admit it, but somewhere along the way the stubborn pain-in-the-ass Southern gambler had gotten through his defenses. All the men had. They were seven very different souls but they were family. The loss of just one of them could shatter the too fragile peace Chris had found. He was also afraid that if they lost the Southerner to this they would lose Buck to guilt and Nathan to heartache. Nathan had hidden his feelings from them, even from himself Chris suspected, but he'd seen the faintest trace of them now and then. It reminded him of his early relationship with Sarah. He hadn't wanted to admit he had feelings for a fine, upstanding woman like her, so he'd played the bad boy role to the hilt, criticizing her for goodness. Until the day she'd told him off and then stated in no uncertain terms that either he came to terms with the fact that he loved her or go away and stop bothering her. Three months later they were standing in front of a preacher.

"He should be. Long as he don't pull no more of these fool stunts," he answered with a shake of his head, trying to hide behind the defenses that had always worked before.

"Good. Why don't you head on back to the clinic where you can keep an eye on him, and I'll have Inez make up a tray for ya?"

Nathan nodded and left the jail, heading towards the clinic. The two men watched him go in silence.

Finally JD said, "Never seen two people so bound and determined to drive each other away rather than admit they care about each other."

Chris squeezed the younger man's shoulder. So often they underestimated him. "Something tells me Nathan may have finally figured it out. Now he's just gotta get Ezra to sit still long enough to listen to him."

Back in the clinic, Nathan found Josiah sitting in the chair next to the bed and Buck sitting on it, one hand resting on the Southerner's slow moving chest reassuring himself he was still breathing. Buck immediately stood at Nathan's entrance, guilt and regret plain to see on his face. Nathan looked to Josiah first.

"Brother Ezra has yet to awaken."

Nathan nodded then looked to Buck who stood fidgeting with his hat in his hands. "Um, Nate, can I talk to ya for a minute? I know you're mad at me an' you've got every right ta be, but I need ta talk to ya, please?"

"I think I'll go finish my conversation with JD. You boys play nice now," Josiah said heading to the door. He paused by Nathan, gently grasping his arm. "Go easy on him, Brother. He truly is sorry."

"It's alright, Josiah. I'm not gonna kill him for now."

Josiah shook his head as he closed the door behind him. Buck watched as Nathan crossed to the bed so that he could check the Southerner for a fever and just fuss over him in general. Buck couldn't help but smile at the thought of how the gambler would have a few choice things to say about the attention.

"Don't see as how you got a call to be smiling there, Buck," Nathan said without turning around.

"No. No, I reckon I don't. I really am sorry ‘bout this, Nate."

"If you're just here to apologize some more I don't want to hear it. Not now."

"I understand. I do. That's not what I wanted to talk to ya ‘bout though. Before he passed out did he talk to ya?"

"Talk to me about what?" Nathan turned to look at the ladies' man. Did he know about the gambler's feelings towards him?

"Um, well, about how he might be feeling about certain things?"

"He talked to you about it?"

Buck sighed in relief that he wasn't revealing anything the Southerner hadn't already said apparently. "Sorta. He hadn't planned on it."

"Then why…?"

"You remember that uproar you two got into ‘bout three weeks ago? Just before Ezra got shot?"

Nathan looked at him suspiciously. He'd thought no one had known about that. It had happened one night after the saloon had closed. "How do you know about that fight?"

"I had been upstairs with Miss Gracie and was just leaving when I heard the two of you yelling. Well, you yelling and Ezra making his smart-ass remarks. I didn't hear all of it; just enough to know you were pissed at him for taking some farmer's money. When you left, he smashed about three bottles of liquor against the wall before setting down on the floor with his own bottle of whiskey. It about broke my heart seeing the amount of pain he was in. He didn't want to talk at first, but you know me. I kept badgering him till he told me what was wrong. That boy loves you something fierce, Nate, and it's tearing him up that he can't ever seem to come close to living up to your expectations. That farmer he 'fleeced' that night? He'd been planning all along to ride out the next day to that homestead and giving the money back to his wife. He knew that man couldn't afford to lose that money, just as that man had no business being at a poker table when he played that badly. Hell, Ezra wasn't even playing his best and he still beat the man." Buck ran a hand through his hair, getting all worked up again, remembering the gambler's anguish that night. "I'd been hoping that giving him that whiskey would help him loosen up a little, give him the courage to finally tell you how he felt ‘bout you. I didn't think it could hurt him like that. I guess it worked though."

"Yeah, just wish it didn't have to happen quite the way it did. I know I've been pushing him too hard, Buck. I guess I was hoping that by always pointing out his faults, I could pretend I didn't care about him. Pretend I don't love him as much as I do. God, Buck, I love the stubborn Southern fool so much sometimes it hurts. I.…"

"You...you love me?"

Both men turned at the sound of the Southerner's slightly hoarse drawl. Nathan grabbed the cup of water he'd put by the bed and held it to Ezra's lips, lifting his head so he could drink. After only a couple of sips, Ezra pushed it away, but grasped Nathan's wrist, preventing him from moving.

"Did you mean it? Do you really love me?"

"Yes, Ezra," he said, gently brushing the sweat dampened hair away from the Southerner's face. "Yes, I love you."

The smile on Ezra's face plainly showed his love for the healer, but it quickly faded to a troubled frown.

"What is it? What's wrong, Ezra? Are you in pain? Is it your leg?" Nathan moved to check but Ezra stopped him.

"My leg is fine, Nathan. I just...I don't understand? If you love me then why do you...why are you always...I don't understand?" The combination of whiskey, pain from his injury, and the shock of hearing Nathan admit to loving him made it hard for Ezra to concentrate.

"I'm so sorry, Ezra. I never realized how much I was hurting you. I never meant to hurt you like that."

"But, why?"

"Because I'm even more of a stubborn fool than you."

Ezra chuckled, reaching up to brush his fingertips against the dark-skinned face of the man he'd come to love so much. "No one's that stubborn."

"Wanna bet?" Nathan chuckled, his own fingers stroking the Southerner's cheek. They both seemed to scarcely breathe as Nathan leaned down to brush his lips against the Southerner's. Tender and sweet at first, it became more passionate as they tasted each other for the first time. Licking and nipping at Ezra’s sensual lips, Nathan moaned eagerly when they parted quickly, allowing him entrance. He dipped his tongue into the moist cavern, rubbing up against the slick muscle that lay within. He barely felt Ezra’s hand curled around the nape of his neck or the other clutching the back of his shirt. Nathan did feel the hard smooth planes of his chest when Ezra arched up against him. Caressing that smooth chest, Nathan was surprised by the sound of a low rumbling purr.

The healer pulled back, raising an eyebrow at the reclining man as he asked, "Did you just purr?"

"Possibly," Ezra answered with a content smile and a shrug. "I’ve been told I do when I’m aroused. Does it bother you?"

"No, it’s fine. Just wasn’t expecting it is all."

"Good. Then come here and make me purr some more," Ezra grinned pulling Nathan back down to him. With a smile of his own, Nathan began to do just that.

Neither man noticed Buck slipping out the door and closing it behind him. A wide grin on his face, Buck trotted down the clinic steps and across the street to the saloon. The others looked up at his entrance, a bit surprised at the grin.

"A round of beers, Inez darlin’," Buck called out as he pulled out a chair, straddling it backwards at the peacekeepers’ usual table.

"Ezra awake?" Josiah asked the same time as Chris asked, "Why're you so happy?"

"Yep, Ezra ol' boy is gonna be just fine. Hell, they're gonna be better'n fine. Let me help you with that, darlin’." Buck jumped to his feet as Inez approached the table with the requested beers. Buck was twice as hyper as a kid at Christmastime. He always was when a plan of his worked out, especially those that involved getting two people together.

"Yer lookin' real pleased with yerself, Bucklin. Kinda funny considerin' ya near kilt Ezra," Vin observed dryly.

Buck stilled, the smile leaving his face. He'd forgotten Vin had a protective streak a mile wide when it came to the gambler. When asked about it the tracker would just reply, "Somebody's got to."

"Now, Vin, you know I'd never intentionally hurt Ezra like that. It just never even occurred to me that Nate might still have him on that laudanum. If anything had happened 'cause of what I did I'd never forgive myself, but I couldn't just sit back and watch him be in so much pain anymore."

"If he was hurtin' then why didn't you tell Nathan so he could give him something?" JD asked, shaking his head.

"Not that kinda hurting, kid. The kind in here," Buck put a hand over his heart. He looked around at his friends who nodded in understanding. "I know there's a fine line between love and hate, but Nathan was taking it way too far trying to pretend he didn't care ‘bout Ezra. If things kept up much longer, there's a good chance we mighta lost Ezra. I was just hoping to get him to loosen up enough to talk to Nathan. Didn't intend ta hurt him."

"We know ya didn't," JD patted his arm reassuringly.

"He was thinking of running?" Chris asked.

"Did he talk ta Nathan?" Vin wanted to know.

"Ta answer Vin first, yeah, they talked. Which is why I wouldn't suggest anybody needing Nate's medical attention for awhile. They were catchin' up on lost time when I left," Buck smirked. The smirk quickly faded though. "I don't know that running is really what he had in mind, Chris."

This made them all sit up a little straighter.

"What?" Vin and Chris demanded in unison.

"He was gonna...he was thinkin'..." JD couldn't voice the rest of the thought.

"I think you best tell us the whole story, Brother," Josiah said gently.

"Well, I'll tell ya part of it ‘cause Ezra'd kill me if I told ya everything he said. 'Bout three days before he got shot he and Nate had a big argument. It was late one night after the saloon had closed. I'd been upstairs with Miss Gracie and was just leaving when I heard them going at it. Nate was laying into him pretty badly for taking some farmer's money. Ezra was using his usual defenses. Then Nate said some pretty harsh things and stormed out. We're talkin' real nasty. If I hadn't seen it I wouldn't a believed Nathan would say something like that. At first I thought Ezra was gonna just shrug it off like he usually does. He smashed three bottles of whiskey against the wall before trying to drown himself in a fourth. He talked a little bit, but he started ta pass out pretty quickly. I helped him up ta his room. It was while I was gettin' him into bed that he mumbled out, 'Maybe it'd be better if I wasn't around.' Considerin' the mood he was in, I doubt running was exactly what he had in mind. So I had to do something."

"It's all right, Buck. You did what you thought was best," Chris reassured his friend. He looked up when Vin rose from the table. "Where you going, cowboy?"

"Me 'n Nate are gonna have a talk first chance."

"Vin, I don't think-" Josiah started.

"I ain't gonna interrupt 'em, Josiah, and I ain't gonna tell Nathan what Buck jes’ told us. But I am gonna make sure he knows that if he hurts Ezra, he's gonna answer ta me for it, and I ain't so forgivin'," Vin growled, grabbing his coat and heading out the door.

Vin moved quietly up the clinic stairs, careful to avoid the squeaky step. Not that he wanted to listen in on them; he just didn't want to disturb them. He ghosted over to the door to listen for a moment. There was the muffled sound of voices but nothing else. Satisfied, he sat down on the bench where he couldn't readily hear what was going on inside, but he could see anyone coming up the stairs. Unless it was an emergency no one would disturb the pair. Vin would see to that.

An hour passed with still no sign of Nathan. Vin nodded to the other four as they passed by at various times. Chris silently agreed to cover Vin's patrol while he sat guard outside the clinic.

Another hour passed.

Dusk was just starting to set in when the clinic door opened and Nathan emerged looking tired, but happy.

"Vin!" he said in surprise when he spotted the tracker. "How long have you been waiting? Why didn't you knock? Where are you hurt?"

"Slow down, Doc. I ain't hurt."

"Oh. Are you here to see Ezra? He's asleep right now but you can..."

"I'd like that, but in a minute. Mainly here ta talk to you."

"About Ezra," Nathan stated rather than asked, feeling defensive.

"'Bout Ezra," Vin confirmed. Cocking his head to the side, he studied the suddenly wary healer. "I been watchin' what you've been doin' to him the past year. I was gettin' ready ta step in but Buck beat me to it. I'm right glad you two finally figgered out what me an' the boys did a while ago, so I ain't gonna say much more'n that. I am gonna tell ya this though. Ezra puts up a good show, but inside he's real fragile-like. If you hurt him, Doc, you'll be answerin' ta me an' I ain't real forgivin' when it comes ta Ezra. Understand?"

"Yeah, I understand ya, Vin. I don't intend to hurt him. Didn't even realize I was hurting him as badly as I was. That's the last thing I ever want to do. I love him."

"I know ya do, Doc. Jes' wanted ya ta know where I stood." Vin touched the brim of his hat before turning to enter the clinic. Nathan's voice stopped him.

"Do you love him?"

Vin stilled for a moment then looked back at Nathan. "Reckon so. Not the same kinda love you got for him, mind you, but it's there. Guess it's kinda like the love Buck's got for JD, jes’ a little better at hidin' it." Vin paused for another moment, sorting the words in his head. "Ezra ain't never had nothin' handed to him, 'cept maybe this job. Everythin' he's got he's had ta fight ta get and fight ta hold on ta. Reckon I know what that's like. Reckon you do to. Me an' you though, we know happiness don't always haveta come with a price. He ain't ever known that 'til he met up with us. Jes' don't want ta see him hurt. You be good ta him, Doc."

"I will. I promise," he whispered when the door closed behind the tracker.

Vin sat down in the chair next to the bed, laying his hat on the floor as he briefly wondered what happened to the night table. In sleep the gambler looked so much younger than his twenty-eight years, the masks falling away leaving an open, boyishly handsome face behind. There were still some lines of pain etched in that smooth skin. Vin wasn't surprised. Hell, any man would be in pain only two weeks after taking three bullets in the leg.

Ezra shifted a little in his sleep. Seeing the grimace of pain, Vin gently put his hand to Ezra's forehead, soothing him. Nathan had asked if he loved the gambler and he did in so many ways, just not the same love Ezra had for Nathan and vice versa. That love belonged to another.

On the outside, they couldn't have been two more different people, but on the inside Vin often felt like he was looking in a mirror. They both knew what it was like to stand on the outside of something looking in and knowing you had no right to it. Even if you did have a right to it, you knew better than to care because the second you did, it was snatched away from you. They both grew up without a family. Oh, Ezra had relatives all right, and his dear sainted mother, Vin snorted at that thought, but none of them loved him. None of them had been family. They both knew hardships in their lives, and they both knew what it was to love someone and believe they hadn't a hope in hell of ever being with them. Now at least Ezra had found what he was looking for. If only it were that simple for him.

He closed his eyes, hand still on his friend's forehead, content to just listen to him breathe. A few minutes passed before he felt like he was being watched. Opening his eyes, he found a pair of glassy green eyes staring up at him. "Hey, pard."

"He loves me, Vin," Ezra smiled up at the tracker.

Vin chuckled. Nathan must have given him some more tea before he left. Even during their encounters, Ezra usually called him Mr. Tanner. "Yep, he sure does. 'Bout time ya figgered it out." He paused a moment, smoothing the silky brown hair back from his friend's face. "Ezra, ya know you can always come ta me ‘bout anything right? Don't matter what, I'll always be here for ya."

"I know, Vin. I know."

"Good. Now why don't ya go back to sleep? I'm sure ya could use the rest."

Ezra regarded him for a moment before reaching up to grasp Vin's hand and bring it down to his chest. "You need to tell him how you feel, Vin. I don't think he will be as opposed as you seem to think."

"I can't, Ez. Ain't no room fer me in his life like that, an' I won't ruin what we got now."

"Tell him, Vin. Give him a chance to love you, to find all those places that make you purr."

"Hell, Ez, ya found a lot of those places. Even some that make me howl worse'n a timber wolf from the pleasure ya give me."

They both jumped at the sound of a loud crash by the door. Turning they found Nathan standing there, the remains of a dinner tray at his feet, a stunned look on his face. They watched as the shock was first replaced by disbelief, then by pure rage.

"Nathan?" Ezra asked tremulously, hoping he hadn't just lost everything again.

"Don't even try, you no-good, cheating Southern bastard!" Nathan spun on his heel and stormed from the room.

"It'll be all right, Ez," Vin tried to reassure the stricken man before he dashed after the healer. "Nathan, wait!"

Vin finally caught up to him as he entered the saloon. Luckily it was a weeknight in early fall. Most folks were out tending their crops and their herds before winter set in leaving the saloon pretty much empty. "Ya gotta listen to me, Nathan."

He didn't get to say anything else as Nathan spun and punched him in the jaw, knocking him off his feet. People tended to underestimate his strength, he so rarely used it. The few patrons in the saloon, besides the peacekeepers, quickly scurried out the door. The one or two who didn't left after a pointed glare from Chris.

Nathan had his fists knotted in Vin's shirt, pressing him against the bar. "Why should I listen to you, Vin? Huh? You gonna tell me about you and Ezra? Tell me how it is he knows how to make you howl like a timber wolf, I think you said? That what you're gonna tell me about? ‘Cause I don't wanna hear it. I don't want to hear anything you or that cheating bastard has to say."

"Well that's jest too goddamn bad. And you ain't got no right ta accuse him a cheating," Vin growled throwing the dark man off him. "What if me an' Ez have shared a bedroll on occasion? What about you an' Rain, huh? You spent the better part of a year moonin' after her all the while tearin' Ezra down every chance ya got. So what if he found comfort with someone else? An' that's all it were is comforting. Me an' Ez both knew going into it that we loved someone else, but we were there for each other. Kept each other from running out on y'all on more'n one occasion when it got to be too much. That man loves ya more'n anything else in this world, and all you've ever done is tear him down. Now, ‘cause yer too goddamn blind ta see the truth, yer gonna destroy any hope that man ever had. Might as well just put a bullet in his head now and get it over with. Ya know, Doc, all this time I’ve been willin’ ta look past all the prejudices you seem ta have cause I knew you were a good man. No more. I ain’t gonna sit back and watch you destroy him ‘cause you think your pride’s been hurt. I won’t. You stay away from him, Nathan. You can doctor him, but you ain’t ta say nuthin’ else to him. I’ll be there ta see to it ya don’t."

Vin turned to storm out the door but was stopped by the black form of Chris. He glared up at him, daring him to challenge the rules he’d just laid out to Nathan.

Chris tilted his head to the side meeting the tracker’s gaze, and he turned over what had been said in his mind. Finally, "Think maybe you should explain what’s going on, Vin."

"Ain’t none of your business."

"Think it is since it affects all of us."

"Yer jes’ lookin’ for somethin’ else ta use against Ezra."

"No, I’m not. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on so we can figure out how to fix it."

"Fixin’ it’s real easy. Nathan’s gonna stay the hell away from Ezra."

"That’s not the answer and you know it. Talk to me, Vin."

"You really want to know what’s going on? Fine," Vin spat, knowing he was about to destroy any chance he had with the man he loved. "Me an’ Ezra have been sharin’ a bedroll on occasion for the past six months. I knew Ezra loved Nathan, and he knew I loved someone else. It was a ways of comfortin’ ‘cause we both figgered we didn’t stand a chance with the ones we really wanted. We both knew as soon as one of us finally got the courage to talk that part of it was over between us. Neither one of us cottons ta the idea of cheatin’ like that. Ezra was tryin’ ta convince me jes’ now to admit my feelings, only Nathan walked in on the end of what I said. Decided me an’ Ez were plannin’ ways of continuin’ on behind his back. Ez started ta explain but Nathan cut him off, called him a 'no-good, cheatin’ Southern bastard.' Might as well jes’ plunged a knife in his heart right then an’ there. I’m not gonna let you all hurt him no more."

"We’re not going to hurt Ezra, Vin. Isn’t that right, Nathan?" Chris growled at the healer. This whole mess had gotten so far out of hand Chris was thinking of shooting someone, anyone, just to ease the tension. They could all see the look of shock on Nathan’s face, quickly followed by remorse.

"I’m sorry, Vin," he managed around the sudden lump in his throat. "I didn’t-"

"Ya didn’t think is what ya didn’t do," Vin snarled, "and I ain’t the one whose heart ya jes’ stomped on so don’t bother ‘pologizin’ ta me."

"You’re...you’re right. I didn’t think. I-"

Before he could say anything else, Jimmy, the livery hostler, came rushing in the door calling for Chris. "Mr. Larabee! Thank God I found you. All of you. The gambler, Standish, he..."

"What about him?" Vin demanded, grabbing the breathless man by his shirtfront.

"Back off, Vin," Chris ordered before stepping into his place. "What about Ezra?"

"He showed up at the stable, Mr. Larabee. Found him trying to saddle his horse. I know he’s got that bad leg so I figured he shouldn’t be up and around. When I tried to get him to go back to the clinic, he pulled his gun on me. Held it on me while I saddled his horse for him. He got the horse to lay down so’s he could mount, then tossed me a five dollar piece and asked me to give him a ten minute head start. He took off heading south outta town."

"How long ago?" Vin demanded.

"Where’d he get clothes?" Buck wondered, knowing all they’d let him have was his night shirt.

"Did you see his leg? Was he bleeding?" Nathan wanted to know.

"I...I think he was wearing some a your clothes, Jackson, and I couldn’t get a look at his leg. I came looking for you all straight after he took off. Didn’t think he should be riding around in the condition he was in."

Nothing was said as the six men took off towards the livery bent on retrieving their lost brother.

**Part 2**

Vin didn’t even bother with a saddle, just bridled Peso, grabbed a lit lantern and took off in the direction Jimmy indicated. By the time the others were saddled and mounted, Vin was a fair distance ahead of them, just the light of the lantern bobbing in the distance. Catching up to him, they watched in some awe as the tracker worked. He was bent so low over Peso’s neck as to be practically indistinguishable from the horse, the lantern swinging low along the ground. What surprised them was how well-behaved the normally fractious gelding was. Under normal circumstances, he would have tried to dump Vin off three or four times already. Instead he moved calmly along, obeying every command as if he sensed his master’s urgent need.

In a sudden movement, Vin slid off Peso, dropping to the ground in a crouch to study the tracks closer. Fingers ghosted over the hoof prints studying the length between them, their deepness. He lifted those fingers to look at them, rubbing them together to get the texture of what it was they’d encountered. He hissed out one word, "Shit."

"What is it, Vin? Chaucer’s droppings?" JD asked, misinterpreting the tracker’s curse.

"No," he said curtly, rising to his feet and swinging back onto Peso. "He’s slowing down and...and he’s bleeding. Badly."

He locked gazes with Nathan, his normally gentle blue eyes hard as granite making Nathan shiver. Then he was bent low again tracking his friend and brother. Nearly an hour had passed since they left town when the sound of a horse whickering came out of the darkness. A moment later they found Chaucer standing over Ezra’s still form.

Vin was on his feet in an instant, kneeling by Ezra’s side in the next. He gathered the Southerner in his arms, taking in the bare feet, loose pants and oversized jacket that belonged to Nathan. He knew instinctively that Ezra hadn’t intended to survive his night ride. Vin glared at Nathan warning him to stay back for the moment.

"Ezra? C’mon, Ez, time ta wake up," Vin said, his voice soft as he tried to rouse him. It took a few tries before he stirred, blinking owlishly up at Vin.

"Vin? What...I have to go, Vin. I can’t stay. Let me go, please."

"No, Ezra. I ain’t lettin’ ya go."

"Please?"

"No."

It tore at the men’s hearts to see the Southerner beg so brokenly to be released from an emotional pain so strong it was palpable.

"You have to stay, Ez. Work things out with Nathan."

Nathan started a little, surprised that Vin was trying to help bring them back together. Ezra’s next words made him wince.

"He doesn’t want me, Vin. I’m not good enough. I’m never good enough." He paused taking a deep breath before refocusing his fever-bright gaze on Vin’s face, his voice earnest, "You are good enough, Vin. You can’t keep hiding it anymore. You have to tell him. You have to tell Chris how you feel, Vin. At least one of us deserves a happy ending."

"So do you, Ezra," Nathan said, kneeling beside the pair, sighing when Ezra pulled away from him. "I’m so sorry, Ezra. I never should have said what I did. I should have listened to what you had to say. You are good enough. You’re more than I deserve. Please forgive me?"

"Forgiving you is easy. Fixing something that’s broken isn’t. I’m broken, Nathan. Can’t be fixed. Shoulda just left me alone. Just let me go."

"No!" JD burst out as he dropped to the ground next to Nathan, grabbing Ezra’s hand. "No, we’re not gonna let you alone to die. You’re family and family don’t give up on family no matter how broken they think they are. Time and love can fix anything, Ezra. Nathan loves you. Got a real dumb way of showing it sometimes, but he does. We all love you and we ain’t letting you go."

Buck, Chris and Josiah stepped forward into Ezra’s line of sight, nodding their heads in agreement.

"We’re not running out on you, Ezra," Chris said.

Ezra looked around at them, seeing the truth in their faces. He had been accepted into this odd little family. He would never be alone again. For once the verbose gambler was at a loss for words, so he turned to the one person that meant the most to him. "Nathan?"

Nathan quickly took him in his arms, Vin willingly giving up his hold. "I’ve got you, Ezra. I’m right here. I’ll give you anything you need."

"Love me?"

"Always and beyond, you stubborn Southern fool." Nathan held Ezra close as he sobbed, gently rocking him, unmindful of the tears coursing down his own face. Soon though the sobs turned into a harsh, wracking cough. Nathan looked up at the others who’d gathered closer in concern. "I need to get him back to town. He’s burning up with fever, and those wounds need to be tended."

"I’ll take him for you, Brother," Josiah said, stepping forward, then understanding the sudden look on the healer’s face, he said, "Just until you’re on your horse."

Nathan nodded letting the gentle giant lift the smaller man from his arms. As Nathan quickly mounted, Josiah held Ezra close and whispered in his ear, "Don’t worry, son. Everything’s going to work out just fine. I’ll see to that."

Then he was lifting him up to Nathan. Once Buck, JD and Josiah were mounted they noticed Chris hadn’t yet and had grabbed Vin’s arm preventing him as well. Chris nodded to them. "You boys go on. We’ll catch up."

The others nodded and took off, leaving Vin to glare at Chris. "What?"

"Something you want to tell me?"

"No."

"Ezra seemed to think you did."

"He was fevered."

"Man usually speaks the truth when he’s fevered. Why didn’t you tell me you had feelings for me?"

Vin looked away, desperately trying to find a way out that would still leave his friendship with the black-clad man intact. "Supposin’ I did have feelin’s for ya? It don’t matter none. You’re with Mary, and I’d never do anythin’ ta come between ya."

"What if I’m not courting Mary?"

"But ya are, so it don’t matter."

"Vin-"

"Jes’ let it be, Chris. Jes’ let things be the way they are."

"No," Chris said turning Vin to face him, making sure the tracker could see the desire, the want, and the love plain on his face. "Mary and I stopped courting over two months ago. We both agreed we didn’t love each other. She even told me I was in love with someone else but didn’t want to admit it to myself. She was right, Vin. I’m in love with you. I’ve just been trying to figure out how to tell you without you pulling that mare’s leg on me. I love you, Vin."

Before Vin could reply, Chris pulled him close, one hand moving up to cup the back of Vin’s head to prevent him from leaving. He brought his lips down over Vin’s in a hard kiss. When Vin gasped in surprise, he slipped his tongue into that warm, moist cavern tasting, plundering its sweetness. Vin grasped Chris’s biceps, uncertain if he was trying to push him away or pull him closer. When Chris pressed his hard bulge against him, he gave up any thoughts of trying to escape. He groaned deep in his chest, grinding his hips against Chris.

After a long moment, Chris pulled away, his breathing ragged, and rested his forehead against Vin’s. He couldn’t believe he was finally holding the man he loved in his arms.

Vin gulped in some much needed air, his eyes closed, enjoying the feel of Chris’s breath fanning his cheek with each exhalation. After a moment, he opened his eyes to find a pair of pale green ones only inches away. He smiled up at the man who’d stolen his heart so long ago. "I love ya so much, Chris."

"I know, Vin. Damn shame it took us so long to get here."

"Too long."

"Definitely, cowboy." Chris held onto him for another minute before pulling away completely. "We better head back to town. Have to make sure we’re not the only ones with a happy ending."

Vin nodded, suddenly wanting to get back to his friend to make sure he would be all right, but first he needed to be sure of something. "Chris? You know that...me an’ Ez...uh, ya know we’re...we’re jes’ friends, right?"

"I know, Vin, and I understand," Chris smiled cupping Vin’s cheek with one hand. "I’ve had a relationship like that myself. There’s no fault in it. Without it, I don’t think any of us would have been able to get to know Ezra."

"He was a bit wary of you all. Couldn’t quite grasp that ya really wanted ta be his friends. ‘Spite what he wants ya ta think, he ain’t never had it easy," Vin said, gathering up Chaucer’s reins then swinging back up onto Peso. He missed Chris’s whispered words.

"Neither have you, Vin. Neither have you."

The ride back to town was quiet as they each pondered the new path their lives were taking. The horses were stabled, a quick kiss stolen in Chaucer’s stall before they headed to the clinic. They found Buck and JD outside. Buck was sitting on the bench while JD sat on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chin and his head resting against Buck’s knee as he slept. Every so often Buck would gently smooth the tousled black hair in an unconscious gesture of affection and protectiveness.

Buck looked up at their approach and smiled seeing the way they stood close together. "You boys get yourselves squared away?"

Chris looked over at Vin who ducked his head blushing. "Yeah, I’d say we did. Any word yet?"

Vin took a couple of steps toward the clinic before Chris stopped him. "You’ll only be in their way, Vin. Let Nathan do his work. You know he’ll take good care of him."

He nodded allowing himself to be led over to the wall where Chris took a seat on the floor then pulled Vin down beside him. Taking off his hat, Vin rested his head on Chris’s shoulder, praying Ezra made it through this obstacle. He couldn’t bear the thought of finally being with Chris only to lose Ezra.

Considering the lateness of the hour and how emotional the day had been, Chris wasn’t surprised when Vin soon fell asleep. He shared a smile with Buck, his oldest friend.

"How you doing, pard?" Buck spoke quietly.

"Not bad, Buck. I’m happy Vin and I have finally talked but..."

"But we might still lose Ezra. I know what you mean. Ezra though, he’s one stubborn cuss and he’s got Nathan, who's just as stubborn, working on him. Besides, with that silver-tongue of his, I’m sure Ez’ll have ol’ St. Peter conned into giving him more time on God’s green earth faster’n you can say lickety-split."

Chris grinned remembering why it was he’d never shot Buck in the long years of their friendship. The man was an eternal optimist. Didn’t mean he wasn’t practical or that he couldn’t see the bad. Buck just preferred to face life head-on with a smile, a fact that had helped Chris through those dark months following the deaths of his wife and son. He hugged Vin a little tighter, praying they weren’t about to lose a brother.

It was well after midnight when the door to the clinic finally opened. Buck and Chris immediately nudged Vin and JD awake. They were surprised when Josiah appeared instead of Nathan. He held up his hands when he saw they were about to start talking all at once.

"He’s alive, brothers, but he’s very ill. He ripped a good portion of his stitches, added some scrapes and bruises, dislocated his shoulder again, and is fighting a high fever. Nathan doesn’t know if it’s from an infection in his wounds, or if it’s from being exposed to the cold air in nothing but pants and a jacket. Probably both. All we can do now is wait. Nathan suggested we might as well try and get some rest. He doesn’t expect him to wake up any time before morning."

Vin looked between Chris and the door, torn between his former lover and his love. With a smile, Chris nodded. "Go, Vin. I’ll be waiting."

"Thank you." He pressed a swift, chaste kiss to Chris’s lips before hurrying into the clinic. JD took a step forward then looked from Josiah to Chris to Buck and back to Josiah before asking, "Can...would it be all right if we looked in on him? I won’t stay long. I promise."

"It’s all right, son," Josiah rumbled, trying not to smile. "I’m sure Ezra’ll appreciate it that you looked in on him. Go on in."

Josiah followed the three men back inside. Vin was in the chair by the foot of the bed, while Nathan sat by Ezra’s side gently bathing his face and neck with wet cloths. Ezra’s face was pale in the low light of the lantern, and they could see the fine tremors of fever that wracked the compact body. They each stepped up to the end of the bed to gently squeeze his blanket-covered foot, letting him know they were there. Not a word was said as the four filed out of the room leaving two to watch over their seventh.

They stopped at the saloon to check in on Inez as she closed up. Things had been quiet after they left. Josiah headed to the church, and Buck and JD went to the boarding house. Chris sat in a chair on the saloon porch, watching over the sleeping town.

 

In the church, Josiah knelt to pray at the altar. He dropped to his knees as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He folded his hands in supplication taking a deep breath before speaking. His voice rumbled with the strength of the emotion he felt. "Dear Lord, I’m praying to you because our lives, our happiness, rests in your hands. I know that you see fit to let us make our own way through life but, Lord, I’ve got to ask you to step in here. Not just for myself, though losing Ezra would be like losing a son from my own flesh I’m sure, but for the others as well. I look on them all as my sons, Lord, you know that, and I’m sure that if we lose Ezra, I’ll lose all my sons to grief and guilt. You love the irony in that, don’t you, Lord? That the death of the brother we found it hardest to trust will tear our family apart. You know it will happen, don’t you? We’ll lose Nathan to heartache and the guilt that he caused Ezra’s illness and that he didn’t know enough to save him. Vin will withdraw from us until there’s nothing left. There’s another irony, isn’t it? Vin gains Chris but loses Ezra and, in trying to ease Vin’s guilt, Chris will only make it worse. The man has already lost so much. His wife and child already. If you take Ezra and Vin from him, he’ll surely die. Buck will tear himself apart trying to keep everyone else together while ignoring his own grief. And JD...JD's a hardy young soul, Lord, but I don’t know that he can survive the loss of his brothers. Not like this. Not to such grief and guilt. Please, Lord, let us hold onto Ezra just a little longer? Let us stay a family for a while. Please, Lord."

Rising to his feet, he blew out the candle before laying down on his bedroll. He lay there staring up at the ceiling until he finally drifted into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

 

Buck had just stripped down to his long johns, alone for once, when there was a tentative knock on his door. He wasn’t surprised to find JD on the other side. Without a word, he opened his arms to the young man who quickly stepped into them. Buck closed the door giving them privacy as he held his "little brother" tight. He murmured gentle reassurances as he felt him begin to shake. With some slight maneuvering, he got them onto the bed and pulled the blankets up to cover them. It wasn’t the first time JD had sought him out for comfort when one of the others was badly injured, and he doubted it would be the last time.

"I’m sorry I’m such a baby, Buck," JD finally sniffed, wiping at the tears on his face.

"Shush, son, you ain’t no baby. You’re a young man facing the idea that he may be about to lose a good portion of his family. Hell, JD, I’m scared spitless at the thought of what’ll happen if Ezra don’t make it. We’ll all be in a world of hurtin’."

"Yeah, but none of the others are blubberin’ like a baby."

"JD, son, listen to me. Everyone deals with their emotions in different ways. Folks have different ways of expressing ’em. Just 'cause you tend to wear yours closer to the surface don’t mean there’s anything wrong in it. Most days I prefer that to Chris and his damn surly moods. Christ, I hope Vin gets him ta calm down some. And look at Ezra and the way he buries everythin’. Not letting us know something’s wrong until it’s almost too late. That ain’t healthy either. No, JD, ain’t nothing wrong with the way you show your emotions. ‘Sides, it’s not like you go off caterwauling at every little thing that upsets ya. You're doin’ just fine."

Several minutes passed in silence and Buck began to drift off thinking JD had fallen asleep.

"Buck?"

"Yeah, son?"

"How.… Why would Ezra want to kill himself? Doesn’t he know that we’ll always be here for him?"

"That’s a tough question, JD. I’m not Ezra so I can’t tell you what he was thinking. I do know that he’s a proud man, and he’s been taught since he was little to not let others see what he’s feeling. Imagine yourself in Ezra’s shoes. You’re in love with a man who seems to spend a lot of time pointing out everything you do wrong and the error of your ways. Now you know you ain’t perfect, but it still hurts 'cause you love this man more than anything, even if he don’t know it. So there you are hurting 'cause of what the man is saying to you, hurting 'cause you love this man but can’t tell him, and hurting 'cause you’re holding it all inside so no one can see you’re hurting. Then you got a life threatenin’ injury you’re only just recoverin’ from and some dumb fool givin' you whiskey which mixes in with all those medicines you’re being fed. You find out that the man you love loves you back, only then he finds out you been with somebody else so he turns his back on you in a hateful way. I figure Ezra’s emotions are flyin’ about all over the place, and he just wanted the pain to stop. Just wanted everything to be better."

"Things will be better. I’ll make sure Ezra knows he ain’t alone no more, and he don’t have to hide his feelings from us."

"You do that, JD. Just make sure you give him some space when he needs it. It’ll take a little time before everything’s the way it should be, and you know how he is when he’s recoverin’ from being sick or wounded. Lucky him, he’s both right now."

"I will, Buck. I promise."

"I know you will, son. I know." Buck gently petted JD’s head where it rested on his shoulder. This was one of those times when he truly wished he could meet JD’s mother so he could thank her for raising such a caring young man. He was a mix of man and boy struggling to prove himself in a harsh world that didn’t forgive mistakes. He was strong and brave with the bit of innocence that made Buck wish he still had it. If he ever had a son, JD was the embodiment of what he would want him to be. With that final thought, Buck fell asleep, a wistful smile on his face.

 

Three days passed in which Ezra remained unconscious, his body trying to fight off the fever that had taken hold of him. One of the bullet wounds had become infected again, and he developed a chest cold. It was just past dusk of the fourth day, and Josiah sat by Ezra’s side. Vin had finally fallen asleep on a bedroll in the corner now that Ezra’s fever had finally broken. Nathan had been "kidnapped" by the others on his way back from the outhouse fifteen minutes ago. They intended to get him to eat something.

They’d all been in here at one point or another to watch over their brother. His illness had taken its toll on all of them. Even the town seemed subdued, unwilling to make trouble for the peacekeepers as they held vigil. Although earlier that day, one drunken cowboy had tried to make trouble in the saloon. That cowboy was surprised when JD gave him a sound whupping and none of them stopped him. JD hadn’t given him more than a few scrapes and bruises, but from the way he’d been yelling, a person might've thought the boy was killing him.

Josiah smiled remembering the look of disgust the trail boss had given his men when he’d come thundering into town only to find out that the only one of them to touch the cowboy had been JD. He’d thought the man was going to shoot his men right there. A low moan brought him from his musings. He placed a gentle hand on Ezra’s brow checking for fever. There was none. Tired green eyes blinked a couple of times before remaining open and focusing on him.

"’Siah?"

"I’m right here, son. Here, drink some water. It’s only water, I promise." Josiah carefully supported Ezra’s head while he sipped from the cup. After a moment he pulled away, not wanting anymore. From his reclining position and the encroaching darkness, Ezra couldn’t see much past Josiah and the lamplight. Josiah understood what he was looking for.

"Vin finally fell asleep earlier on a bedroll in the corner. Chris, Buck and JD kidnapped Nathan to the saloon to get him to eat something. First bit of rest they’ve gotten in four days."

Ezra looked at him sharply. "Four days?" His voice was still little more than a weak rasp.

"Yep. Four days since you rode off giving us the scare of a lifetime." Josiah paused, looking down at his folded hands for a moment before raising his gaze to meet Ezra’s. "Son, I know things haven’t been easy for you, and I can’t promise you that things are always going to work out the way you want them to. Suspect you’d call me a liar if I did."

Ezra smiled at Josiah’s weak joke, nodding his head to indicate he understood.

"Things won’t always be easy, but I will always be here for you. We all will. You’ve gone and gotten yourself six shadows whether you like it or not, at least for the next few weeks. I’m sure you’ll lose Buck the first time a pretty woman walks by. What I’m trying to say though, Ezra." He stopped when Ezra grasped his hands.

"It’s all right, Josiah. I understand. If I need to talk, I will seek you out."

"Good, and it doesn’t have to be just when you need to. It can be when you want to as well. My door is always open to you."

"Thank you, Josiah."

"No need to thank me, Ezra. It's what families do."

Ezra frowned looking away for a moment. "I’ve not had much experience with families. Very few of the ones Mother left me with wanted me around. I’m…I find myself uncertain on how to proceed in these uncharted waters."

Josiah chuckled. "Don’t worry, son. Not one of us has a map either. We’ll muddle through it together."

There was a rustling in the corner, then Vin’s raspy drawl, "Josiah? Who ya…You’re awake, Ezra."

Vin quickly slipped onto the chair that Josiah vacated. Without thinking, Vin put his hand to Ezra’s brow to check for fever. He chuckled when Ezra batted it away. "How ya doin’, pard?"

"I’m fine, Vin."

"Uh huh. Yeah, you look fine for a fella that near died four days ago an’s been fevered since. I swear, Ez, you ever pull a stunt like that, and I’ll shoot you myself. Scairt the hell outta me."

"I’m sorry, Vin. I…I just wanted the pain to go away. I had to get away. I couldn’t stay here knowing that he hated me."

"I don’t hate you, Ezra." Once again, neither had heard the healer come in, nor had they noticed Josiah leave to go get him. Vin nodded to Nathan before turning back to Ezra who'd suddenly found his blanket very interesting. He clasped the Southerner’s hand, getting his attention. "I’m gonna go now 'cause ya need ta talk to each other, all right?"

He waited for Ezra’s nod before rising to his feet, still holding his hand. "Things’ll be fine, Ez. Jes’ remember, I’ll always be there when ya need me. I’ll talk to ya later." Vin squeezed his hand then turned to go.

"Thank you, Vin."

"You’re welcome, Ez." Vin paused next to Nathan. "You take good care of him, Doc."

"I will, Vin, I promise." Nathan smiled as the tracker nodded and opened the door. "He’s waiting on you at the saloon."

Vin smiled closing the door behind him. Satisfied that they would mend things between them, he headed to the livery. It was time he and Chris worked on their own happy ending.

A few minutes later, Vin stepped up to the doors of the saloon, but didn’t go in. He just swept his gaze over the small crowd until he found the man he was looking for. Sky blue eyes locked with pale green eyes. A brief nod of the head and Vin stepped back from the door. He mounted Peso and waited patiently. He was not to be disappointed. A moment later, a tall figure dressed all in black appeared from the saloon. He took in the sight of Vin already mounted and waiting before mounting his own black gelding. No words were spoken as Vin led them from town.

Finally a mile out, Chris asked, "So where we heading, cowboy?"

Vin looked over at Chris and smiled. "Fella' I know owns a shack just up the road a piece. Think he’ll mind if we borrow it?"

Chris grinned back. "Nope. Don’t think he’ll mind at all."

 

Nathan sat in the empty chair, one hand automatically going to Ezra’s brow to check for fever.

"Why must everyone do that?" Ezra complained, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Because you never tell anyone how you are, if you’re sick. We care about you, Ezra." Nathan sighed when he saw the poker face go up. "Please don’t shut me out, Ezra. Tell me what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling?"

Ezra stayed quiet for a long moment as he studied Nathan’s face, the face of the man he loved so much, the one who could so easily destroy him. "I am tired and my leg hurts a little, but what hurts most of all is my heart. Nathan, I love you more than anything but if you don’t trust me…."

"I do trust you, Ezra. It’s just when I saw you with Vin and heard…."

"You thought I was cheating on you already. You don’t trust me."

"No, Ezra, that’s not what it was exactly. When I saw you two and realized you’d been together, a lot of my own fears rushed to the surface. I was afraid that I wasn’t good enough for you. Wasn’t white enough for you. I’m a black man, and you’re a white Southern gentleman. What on earth would you want me for? And I saw the way he made you smile, and all I’ve ever done is hurt you. So, yeah, I was angry and jealous. Part of me figured you should have been just as miserable as I’ve been all this time. I was all set to hate you because of my fears."

"But?"

"But I never stopped to consider your fears. Not until Vin decided to set me straight on a few things. Like just because you’re with somebody, it don’t mean you’re happy, ‘specially if it’s not the somebody you want. God, Ezra, I am so sorry for what I’ve done to you. All this time, I’ve been telling you to change your ways, and you weren’t really the who needed to change. I’m sorry, Ezra, and I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me." Nathan bowed his head, unable to bear the thought of seeing rejection in Ezra’s eyes. He was surprised when he felt a gentle hand on his head. Looking up, he was caught by the tender love and forgiveness he saw there. With a wordless cry, he gathered the Southerner into his arms in a tight hug. If he had his way, he would never let go, but reality quickly intruded.

"Um, Nathan, I love you and I’d love to stay this way but…owwww."

"Oh, Ezra, your leg. I’m so sor-"

"You say you’re sorry one more time, love, and I may be forced to hurt you."

"All right then," Nathan said as he gently lowered Ezra back onto the bed, before rising to get a cup of tea. "I apologize."

"I do believe I’m rubbing off on you, Mr. Jackson," Ezra laughed.

Nathan shook his head with a smile. "Drink this. It’ll make you sleepy, but it’ll help ease the pain in your leg."

"I’ll drink that on one condition," Ezra said looking from the mug to his beloved’s face. Nathan raised an eyebrow in question. "You hold me until I fall asleep."

At that moment in time, Nathan was quite sure his heart had turned into a puddle of mush. A tender smile on his lips, Nathan gazed at this man he loved so much. "Always, Ezra. Always."

He helped support Ezra’s head as he sipped from the mug. Once satisfied that he’d drunk enough, Nathan put the mug aside then carefully joined the Southerner in the bed. Ezra snuggled up against him, resting his cheek on Nathan’s chest. He drifted to sleep, the last two things he was aware of were Nathan’s fingers brushing through his hair and a sense of peace swelling his heart.

**Epilogue**

It has been just over a month now since that fateful day, and my life has been unalterably changed. Not that I feel this is a bad thing. Quite the opposite in fact. I just wish these changes had come about in a less traumatic manner.

Sitting here in the saloon, playing poker with these two men, who are rather less than adept at the game than I, all I have to do is look around, and I can see the first of the changes wrought in my life. I am no longer alone. There is always someone watching out for me, watching over me. While at times I do find it a bit stifling, I understand their concern, their need to do this.

In one corner, at their usual table, sit Chris and Vin. They sit next to each other like always, backs to the wall, a glass of whiskey in front of each of them. Looking at them, one would never presume they were lovers. Not unless one was to look beneath the table and see that each had their hand on the other’s thigh. I am glad that Vin has finally found what his heart desired. I will never regret the time we spent together, and I hope he does not either. He truly deserves happiness, and Chris is what makes him happy. They notice me watching them and identical smiles appear on their faces as they raise their glasses in salute to me. I nod my head and return to my game.

My attention has quickly wandered again; these gentlemen truly are dreadful players. Next my gaze lands on Josiah. In the past month, the man truly has been a father to me. Granted I have little knowledge of the concept of how a father/son relationship should be conducted, but I feel this is the way it should be for us. All through my convalescence, he has been by my side, ready to catch me if I should fall and patient enough to outwait my stubbornness when necessary. I chuckle quietly at that thought. Most times he has the patience, the rest of the time he just grabs me by the shirt collar and shakes me until I concede the point.

My…opponents look at me strangely when I chuckle. I simply smile benignly and continue with the game. Sitting with Josiah is young Mr. Dunne. JD has truly become the little brother I’m thankful I never had. No, that’s not fair. He means well even if he is a bit over-exuberant at times. He has even foregone Miss Wells’s company to sit with me. At such times I usually shoo him away. If there is one thing I have learned from that day it is to never deny love. It is a precious thing that should not be pushed off for a more convenient time. There is never a more convenient time then right then. Since JD insists on spending a large portion of his time with me, I have taken to teaching him some of the finer points of poker. None of the underhanded tricks, of which I am so frequently accused of, well, less frequently nowadays. JD is quite intelligent and an adept student. I quite enjoyed the looks of consternation on Chris's and Buck’s faces the other night when JD won more hands than he lost in their game of poker. A game which I was not a part of, having been involved in a game with some passengers from the stagecoach.

Buck is at the bar flirting with Inez. The man amazes me. He’s always projected such a devil-may-care attitude that it is easy to forget sometimes how seriously he takes being part of our little family, and just how much he cares about all of us. It makes me feel even worse for having involved him without his knowledge in my little game of Russian Roulette that I played with that whiskey. Despite what they thought, I knew what I was doing when I asked for it. I have apologized to Buck for my duplicity. I shall never forget that soft look of hurt and betrayal he got upon the realization of what exactly it was I was apologizing for. And although he has forgiven me, I understand why he has kept his distance. I have hurt him deeply, and only time can heal that pain. Yet still he watches over me. One of my six guardian angels. Once again I have to laugh at that thought. Most of their haloes would be slightly askew, and I can just picture Mr. Larabee eschewing the traditional white robes for his customary black duster and hat.

My sixth angel, my beloved Nathan, is not here at the moment. Yosemite, the town blacksmith, suffered an unfortunate accident this morning burning himself at his forge. Nathan has assured us he will be fine, and how could he not be under the care of our excellent healer? Of course I might be partially biased in that area. Sometimes I still cannot believe that he loves me, that he actually wants me, a Southern con man and gambler with a rusty conscience. But he does.

"Are you gonna play, or are you just gonna sit there smiling all day?"

The rough voice of one of my opponents drags me away from my musings. "I do apologize gentlemen for my lack of attention. Shall we continue?"

A grunt is their only response. How…unimaginative. I sigh as the game continues. I really do need some more challenging opponents than our small town has to offer, but the thought of leaving has no appeal to me. Now that I’m paying more attention to the game at hand, it goes much quicker and reminds me why I was allowing my mind to wander in the first place. They truly are dreadful players. Any of my associates would be able to pick up on their tells. My young protégé would probably be laughing himself silly over how obvious they were. This brought another quirk of a smile to my lips.

The batwing doors to the saloon swing open catching my once more wandering attention. It is all I can do not to let a full-blown smile spread across my face at the sight of my Nathan standing there. A slight smile curves his lips as he looks my way before he heads to the table where Josiah and JD sit. He talks to them briefly, most likely telling them how Yosemite is faring. From there, he crosses to Chris and Vin, nodding to Buck as he goes. Once more he stops to talk, his voice too low for me to hear anything more than its gentle cadences. The sight and sound of my beloved sets off a fluttering in my stomach and a rush of warm desire throughout my body. Good Lord, it’s amazing how much I love this man.

I try to keep my attention strictly on the hand of cards in front of me, even though I know he is walking towards me. Like Chris and Vin, Nathan and I have chosen only to allow a select few outside our little group know about our relationship. Just Inez, Nettie Wells and her niece, and Mrs. Travis. Not many are very understanding of a relationship like ours. Inez and Nettie simply replied to the news with the simple words, "About time." Casey and Mrs. Travis took a little more time to accept it. Young Casey, I think, just didn’t understand how two men could love each other. Mrs. Travis had the more difficult task of accepting that there was no longer a chance for a relationship between her and Chris. I could well empathize with her. The thought of never having Nathan, of being rejected by him had torn me up inside so badly that I’d finally decided there was no point in continuing what had become a meaningless existence.

The others have tried several times to get me to talk about that night, but I can’t. I know they mean well, but I can not bring myself to talk about it, to admit even to myself how low I had allowed myself to sink. Mother has always taught me that to show one’s emotions was to show one’s weakness. These men, my friends, my beloved, saw me at my weakest, something that shames me deeply.

A hand falls on my shoulder. I don’t have to look to know who it is. "Time for your exercises, Ezra."

"Not just yet, Mr. Jackson. I am in the midst of a game." We both know that I want nothing more than to leave the table right then and there, but appearances must be kept.

"End it then. You can’t avoid these exercises."

"I can certainly try, Mr. Jackson. Do you really think I enjoy submitting myself to such torture? Once I am finished here…"

"Ezra-"

"You heard the man, you stupid nigger. Now go away," one of the men across from me growled. I immediately stiffened at the same time Nathan’s grip on my shoulder tightened.

"What did you say?" Those who know me easily detected the edge to my normally relaxed drawl. The imbecile sitting across from me did not.

"I told that stupid nigger-"

"That’s what I thought," I said, interrupting him before he could further insult my beloved. "You will apologize immediately."

"What? I ain’t apologizin’ to no uppity darkie. You’re a Southerner, you know these darkie’s can’t be trusted."

With a quick flick of my wrist, my derringer is in my hand and aimed at the fool in front of me. "This Southerner knows better than to judge a man on the basis of his skin tone. Nathan is a good and gentle man and the finest healer I have ever had the privilege to know. Apologize now."

"No."

The sound of five guns cocking echoes in the suddenly silent saloon.

"The man told you to apologize."

I must say the sight of the two idiots turning pale in the face of Mr. Larabee’s quite effective growl was almost enough to make me smile. Almost.

"S…s…sorry," the man finally got out, "didn’t mean to cause no offense."

"I suggest you leave."

"Uh, yeah. We was just leaving." The man and his friend quickly gathered their money and scurried from the saloon. The usual activity of the room quickly resumed as well, no one paying much mind as my associates all gathered at my table.

"You didn’t have to do that, Ezra." Beneath the chiding tone, I could hear the gratitude and love.

"Yes, I did, Nathan," I tell him as I rise unsteadily to my feet. Nathan’s hand is instantly at my elbow, supporting me when my bad leg tries to buckle. JD hands me my cane, and I smile briefly in thanks. Yet one more weakness I am forced to display before these men. Steady once more, I look up into my beloved’s face. "He had no right to say such vile and despicable things to you."

"It’s not like I haven’t heard worse before."

"That does not make it right."

"Just say thanks, Nate, and take him on over to the clinic before that leg of his gives out," Vin said before Nathan could say anything more on the subject. I glare good-naturedly at my friend.

"I am perfectly capable of walking without assistance, thank you very much." Of course my leg immediately starts to give way again to belie my words. Nathan immediately catches me, and I sigh. "Perhaps I am not as sturdy as I would like to think."

Nathan smiles down at me. "That’s all right, Ezra. I’ll always be here to catch you."

A muffled cough catches my attention, and I blush remembering where exactly it is we are. Our friends just smile indulgently while Nathan escorts me from the saloon.

The walk to the clinic seems to take an interminable length of time due both to my infirmity and to my desire to be alone with my beloved as quickly as possible. At the same time, I am loath to be shut away in the clinic once more. Nathan understands without my having to say anything, and we sit for a time on the porch, enjoying the late afternoon sun. Ostensibly it is to allow me to rest before the draining exercises I am about to endure in the effort to strengthen my leg and regain my mobility. Luckily the town has been relatively quiet these past few weeks, so my absence has not put any of my brothers in danger.

After a time, Nathan breaks the silence. "We can’t put them off any longer, Ezra. You know how badly your leg stiffens up in one day; it’ll be even worse after two."

"I know, Nathan. Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it."

"No, I’d be surprised if you did. I know it’s painful, but it’s for your own good."

I rise a little unsteadily before smiling crookedly at my love. "Why is it everything that’s good for me seems to cause pain?"

"'Cause the world moves in mysterious ways."

"Ah. You’ve been spending time with Josiah again. You haven’t been seeing crows have you?"

He laughs at that as I had intended. A deep, rich laugh that sends a tingle throughout my entire body. "Nope. Haven’t seen any crows. Now quit stalling. If I think your leg has improved enough, we’ll only do some light exercises. I’ve special plans for tonight."

He is standing next to me, his head bent near to my own, looking to all the world as if we are talking as he helps me along. I know the truth. I feel his warm breath on my cheek, those wide lips pressing soft kisses to my ear. A quiet moan escapes my lips, and Nathan hurries me into the clinic. Tries to anyway. One thing my leg will not allow for is hurrying.

Inside I sit down on the edge of the bed, and Nathan kneels before me to help me remove my finery. Another unfortunate side effect of these exercises is that I usually end up drenched in sweat by the time we’re finished. I undo my gun belt then hand it over so Nathan can hang it on the bedpost. I shrug out of my jacket, my hat already on the desk by the door. Nathan takes my jacket, my favorite green one, and hangs it expertly on its rack. I remember the first time I saw him do that. I learned then that Nathan had not always been a field slave, and how he learned to read and write. As a child, he’d been given the task of acting as companion and manservant to his Master’s only son, a boy two years his junior. They had done everything together until they reached puberty. Then it was decided some of the looks they shared with each other were unnatural and filthy. Nathan was whipped and sent to the fields. Less than a year later, three of the young slave girls were pregnant by his Master’s son.

I pushed those thoughts away when he kneeled once more before me, kissing me as his agile fingers undid the buttons of my vest. Opening my mouth beneath his, I welcomed his slick tongue, caressing it with my own. His large hands are gentle as they move across my body, slipping beneath my shirt. The roughness of those beautiful, hard-working hands against my smooth skin sends a delicious shiver through my body, and I lean forward into the caress. My own hands are busy trying to divest him of his shirt. Somehow, and I’d be hard pressed to give a clear answer as to how it occurred, we are almost completely undressed. Nathan still has on his pants and boots, while I am clad only in my underwear, a pair of long johns cut down into a type of short pants for when we do my exercises.

As if reading my thoughts, Nathan pulls away and we sit together panting for a moment. He finally says, "As much as I’d like to keep goin’ with that, we have to do your exercises, Ezra."

"One more kiss and I promise to be a good boy," I say with a wicked smile.

My love just shakes his head. "That’ll happen. One kiss and then it’s exercise time."

He gives me a quick, sweet kiss, then pulls away once more. I watch him rise to his feet loving the way his muscles glide and ripple beneath his dark skin. It reminds me of a confection I had the pleasure of tasting while in San Francisco. It was called chocolate. A delicious treat to be sure, but nothing compared to my Nathan.

"Hey, Ezra?"

"Hmm?" I answer, still distracted by the sight of those muscles.

"What are you thinking?"

"You. Muscles. Chocolate. Exquisite treasures Kings would pay ransoms of gold for." His throaty chuckle makes me blush as I realize I spoke my thoughts out loud.

"I love you, Ezra, but sometimes you think the oddest things."

"I don’t think it’s odd," I mutter and blush once more when he smiles at me. He pours some oil into his hands then rubs them together, both to warm and spread the oil. Then he is applying those oil-slicked hands to my injured leg, gently massaging the stiffness from it.

I lay back on the bed simply enjoying the feel of his hands as they work their magic. Every now and then I wince when he hits a particularly tender spot. It quickly melts away beneath those knowing fingers. All too soon he gently lowers my leg and moves away so he can spread the padded blanket on the floor for my exercises. He helps me shift from the bed to the floor, holding my hand extra long when I tremble in anticipation. I am not lying nor exaggerating when I say these exercises are painful, although not so much as they were at first. The first few sessions Nathan would have to give small doses of laudanum as well as a second massage to ease the pain. I would beg and plead with him to stop, to end the torture. He wouldn’t though and for that I am grateful. Had he given in to my pleading, allowed me to put off these exercises, I might have been forever stuck in that loathsome wheeling chair, forever reliant on someone else. No, as much as I dread these exercises, I fear that chair even more, and I thank God for Nathan’s love and perseverance.

A tap on my leg brings my thoughts back to the task at hand. Nathan just smiles, having an idea as to where my thoughts have been. He’s already completed the preliminary exercises. They don’t require much thought or attention on my part. Now comes the fun part. The only words spoken are Nathan’s occasional instructions and encouragement. This time around though he only pushes me until there is a vague ache in my leg, not the usual hard, throbbing pain that leaves me in tears. There are some new exercises mixed in as well. I’m surprised when he stops so soon and just as surprised to realize my leg is almost as sore as it usually is.

"It’s the new exercises. It’s a new movement your muscles aren’t used to. I didn’t want to tire you out too much though. Let’s get you back onto the bed."

Once he has me situated on the bed, Nathan brings me a mug of one of his teas. As foul tasting as it is, I drink it down gratefully, knowing it will ease the ache. He places the empty mug on the new night table, then pulls the covers up higher on my shoulder urging me to sleep. Already tired from the exercises, the tea makes me drowsy and I close my eyes. I know Nathan will stay with me until I am asleep, just as I know he will then go to the saloon for at least one shot of whiskey and a beer, and talk with our friends for a while before returning here to me.

The first time Nathan came to bed with the smell of whiskey on his breath, I thought I had done something wrong. I found out the next day from Vin that Nathan had practically been in tears hating that he couldn’t give in to my pleas to stop the exercises. He hated that he had to cause me such pain to get me well again. After that, I have tried to be as stoic as possible and do not begrudge him that shot of whiskey.

The feel of his fingers gently brushing through my hair and the soft tune he’s humming finally lulls me to sleep.

Some time later the feel of the bed dipping and Nathan slipping underneath the covers behind me wakes me from my sleep. Spooning up behind me, he curls an arm around my waist while pressing a line of soft kisses along my shoulder and up my neck until he reaches my lips. It is a long, passionate kiss. I notice absently that he only tastes of beer tonight. This heartens me even more that I am well on the road to recovery. His warm tongue slipping into my mouth distracts me from those thoughts. I suck on it, delighted when the action elicits a low moan and the press of his hard length against my backside. Something clicks in my mind, and I pull away to look at him questioningly in the semi-dark. "You’re naked."

"Yep. Real…astute observation there, Ezra."

I could sense, more than see, him smiling at me. I still wanted clarification of what I thought this meant. "If you’re…does that mean…are we…can we…?"

"Yes, that’s what it means, and yes, we can. Unless you don’t want to?" he asks, tenderly caressing my cheek. I shift onto my back so I can look him squarely in the face and grasp his hand in mine.

"Yes, Nathan, I want to. I want to make love with you."

He bends down and kisses me again, holding our bodies tightly against each other. The light smattering of dark curls on his chest tickles mine, and I shiver slightly at the sensation. Perhaps thinking I shivered from fear or uncertainty, Nathan starts to pull away. I quickly put an arm around his waist drawing him back to me. I sigh happily as he settles back against me.

"I wasn’t going anywhere," he reassures me. "Just reaching for the jar of oil." He pauses and looks away for a moment. "When you and Vin…did he ever…did you let…."

Knowing what he is trying to ask, and the incumbent emotional baggage it carries, I answer truthfully. "Mr. Tanner was by no means my first lover, Nathan. Nor was I his. We were and are friends. No more than that. It is only us now. Being here with you is the only thing that matters to me. I want to make love with you. I want us to be together."

"I want that too, Ezra. I just didn’t want to push you into anything you weren’t ready for."

"Believe me, Nathan, I am definitely ready for this," I say. Still holding his hand, I move it down to cup my own erection. He lightly squeezes the fabric covered bulge, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. "Please, Nathan. I want to feel you inside me."

"God, I want that too," he says raggedly, his fingers flexing again against my erection. Pushing back the covers, he moves into a kneeling position so he can slide off my underwear. When I am completely unclothed, he simply sits there watching me. I don’t notice at first as I am busy doing some admiring of my own. After a few minutes though, I begin to fidget and grow concerned that he’s changed his mind. Maybe he’d truly realized he was about to make love with a white man, a Southern white man at that, and it brought back too many painful memories. Or maybe he found the numerous scars that littered my body, most gained since coming to this town, ugly. Or maybe… My thoughts are cut off by the sudden feel of his hands ghosting up my legs, just brushing the skin. Finally he is leaning over me, nestled between my legs, our erections pressed tight between our bodies.

His cock is longer and thicker than my own, and I wonder what it will feel like buried inside me, thrusting deep and hard. Eager to feel that pleasure, I moved to wrap my legs around him. My right leg is no problem, but I only got my injured leg halfway bent before it started to hurt. Nathan immediately noticed something was wrong and helped me lower my leg back to the bed.

"Well, this position won’t work," Nathan sighed, "and neither will…or that…I think I’ve got it. Roll onto your side so your bad leg is flat against the bed," Nathan instructed as he moved away. Complying, I twisted my head around to watch him grab the jar of oil and settle behind me in the position we’d been in earlier. Bending his right leg, he lifted my good leg and positioned it over his bent one. I realized this left us in the perfect position for him to enter me without awkwardness or pain.

I looked forward once more when I felt his oil-slicked fingers move between my cheeks and enter me. There is a slight burning as the tight muscles are stretched, but I force myself to relax. After a few moments, Nathan has me stretched to his satisfaction, and his fingers are replaced by the blunt head of his manhood. Again there is some burning as he breaches me, but he pauses and waits until I nod before pressing deeper. Slowly, in this way, Nathan continues until he is fully buried inside my tight sheath. I lay panting in his embrace, not believing that I was able to take all of him, but the press of his balls against my backside tells me I have.

Nathan nibbles on my neck and earlobe while his right hand reaches around to gently stroke my waning erection. He quickly brings it back to full hardness. I moan from the pleasure of his hand stroking me and push back against him causing his cock to shift inside me. I gasp and automatically tighten my inner muscles as he brushes against that nub of pleasure. My love groans low in his throat and, taking this as a sign of my readiness, begins to move. He withdraws almost completely before plunging back in, his foreskin creating an added friction as he rubs against that nub. I push back against him wanting more. We quickly set up a steady rhythm, gasping and moaning as we spiral higher.

"Oh God, love, harder," I moan. At least I think I do. At this point, I have idea if I’m anywhere near coherent. Nathan is panting in my ear, gasping something that sounds, "Yesss. So tight. So good."

Soon though, as the pace quickens, he thrusts deeper and harder inside me, his hand stroking and squeezing me in time to his thrusts. I lose any semblance of rational thought. Everything narrows down to the incredible pleasure that is flooding through my body. I can feel the tingling beginning in my balls, and I know that I’m almost there. I try to hold out, wanting to feel Nathan come with me, but he ruthlessly drives me over the edge. Stiffening, I cry out, my hand clutching his as my seed shoots all over my chest and the bed.

A few short strokes later and he shouts my name, driving into me even harder, his warm seed coating my insides. He thrusts twice more, barely moving, before falling limp behind me and pulling me with him so we remain tightly spooned together. Nathan lowers his leg so it rests between mine, and his still hard length remains inside me. Not that I mind. I find I quite enjoy the sensation. I feel possessed, loved. He nuzzles my neck, and I sigh contentedly. Finally we are where we belong, in each other’s arms.

~Fini~


End file.
